The ABCs of children's music
Graphic by Hollie Raposo
By Stephanie Weber
To pass the time in our red minivan on family trips, my mom would insert a cassette that sang to me directly. My mom collected baby items before I was born, one of them being a 1986 tape deck that helped kids learn their names in an interactive call-and-response format. One of my favorite songs had the lyrics, “Your name is Stephanie, and you’re traveling far in your family car!” I would sit in the backseat, babbling, buckled tight into my car seat, and dancing along to this hand-picked song, encouraged by my parents to have fun and learn at the same time.
Family pictures and home videos suggest that me and my sister enjoyed the music that filled the beginnings of our lives. Whether it was the music played on the radio—classical, ‘80s and 2000s country—or music my sister and I created on our own, we loved music and my parents did too. They taught us the importance of music as a means to express our creativity, helping us learn letters, numbers and colors along the way. I’m not in touch with Generation Alpha—I have no nieces or nephews nor older friends with children—but I can only imagine they interact with music differently than the preceding generations have. Children’s music is incredibly formidable to child development, so exploring how it’s changed provides insight into how Generation Alpha (identified as years 2010 to 2024) will interact with music for the rest of their lives.
In its early days, children’s music was defined by the gramophone, playing songs like “Au Clair de La Lune” and Mother Goose nursery rhymes. Then came the record player and music production took off, with big names like Bing Crosby, Fanny Brice and Roy Rodgers getting into the children’s music industry. Disney was established in 1923 and with it came culturally iconic media like Mickey Mouse (1928), Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs (1937) and Pinocchio (1940). Disney’s legacy would carry into the future decades, like with Mary Poppins, released in 1964, all the way to the 1970s. This decade shifted children’s music from cartoons and folklore to just folk, a sweet sound to accompany revolution. Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood (1968-2001), Sesame Street (1969-) and Schoolhouse Rock! (1973-1985) were some of the biggest hits. Singer-songwriter Hap Palmer was also incredibly popular in the young Gen X population. Disney transitioned into animated media towards the ’90s like The Little Mermaid (1989) and Beauty and The Beast (1991), both of which have been remade in the past 10 years—Beauty and The Beast in 2017 and The Little Mermaid in 2023—highlighting its time-honored, icon status. Cinderella (1950) was remade as well, lead by Hillary Duff in A Cinderella Story (2004) and Selena Gomez in Another Cinderella Story (2008). Disney even remastered Mother Goose nursery rhymes into Mother Goose Rock ‘n’ Rhyme (1990) with celebrities like Shelley Duvall, Little Richard and Debby Harry holding leading roles. Reimaging traditional stories through the generations helps ensure children stay engaged with the content and still draw the same messages.
Disney is a powerhouse for children’s music and there is no doubt that filling these lead roles with culturally important celebrities is vital to the entertainment conglomerate’s success. Disney and early children’s music was built into our cultural iconography, allowing children to explore how they see themselves in the world. Disney princesses and funny cartoons are recognizable by so many people, even internationally, even though they were made exclusively for children. They continue to be loved and reconceptualized in modern stories. Even when the media forms change from black-and-white TV to on-demand streaming, children continue to find characters they can identify with, creating opportunity for self-expression and self-actualization, and therefore opening children up to a world of possibility.
I wholly identified with the early Barbie movies, where Barbie took on magical roles—as a fairy, mermaid or pegasus handler—, and even “real-life” roles—as a popstar, ballerina or student. I found myself in these movies, singing along to my favorites. My dad did too, as he finished our basement listening to The Princess and The Pauper (2004) soundtrack on CD, while me and my sister played with our respective dolls. He still carries the CD in his truck even as me and my sister are in our 20s. In addition to Barbie movies, PBS Kids filled our home. Me and my sister sat transfixed in front of the TV watching Reading Rainbow (1986-2006), The Magic School Bus (1994-1997) and Blue’s Clues (1996-2006), all which had awesome theme songs and integrated music to help kids learn about the world around them. These shows encouraged us to explore and engage in creativity, and gave us the language to express ourselves. They also provided a soundtrack to crazy dance parties in the living room.
PBS Kids was a staple, because it was rooted in education and “wholesomeness,” while Nickelodeon and Cartoon Network weren’t allowed in the house as they were inappropriate due to content and language. Caillou (1997-2011), for example, was immediately banned as I imitated his “bratty” behavior and was rude to my parents. Disney, on the other hand, was a happy medium between education and entertainment, with media like The Doodlebops (2005-2007), Mickey Mouse Clubhouse (2006-2016), and the Wiggles providing stimulating and trustworthy entertainment without being crude. In the early 2000s, artists that parents could trust ranged from Jack Johnson who did the Curious George movie soundtracks to Marlo Thomas & Friends who sang Free To Be You and Me (1974), encouraging children to be kind and caring individuals.
For most of my peers, music played an important role in their rearing. I asked friends about their childhood and the music that influenced them, and I got plenty of answers. Beside TV shows and other children’s filmography, some parents sang to their children, encouraging them to pick up instruments, sing and dance. One friend said, “My dad used to play guitar and harmonica” (his father was a folk/blues singer). “I guess I associate Burl Ives and that vein of folky children’s music with them.” This friend remembered “sitting in a warm sunny room” while their dad “picked at the strings or played simple songs on the harmonica,” signaling that children’s music makes up several warm and soft memories of childhood. Another friend explained, “I went to my first concert at five months old… Blues Traveler performed in New York City on the Today show in September 2003, and my parents brought me along with them. I was dressed in this really cute duck hoodie…There are also pictures of me hanging out with lead singer John Popper and bass player Tad Kinchla.” As a little kid, they didn’t have the language to say “music,” so “ick ick” was a suitable substitution as they clutched on to the gate, shook it and pointed to the back room of the house where the stereo was stored.
For some parents, it was children’s music only, but for others, any genre from hard rock to hip-hop was included in what they exposed their kids to. In many cases, these tunes would even inspire music made by kids themselves, something that was frequent in my house. Growing up, I would bang on the keys of our out-of-tune piano, making up songs in the process. “Yo yo yo, pizza delivery cheap. I’m talking pepperoni, sausage, deluxe, and vegetarian / It tastes so good, you might want to marry it / Calzones, Italian, and pineapple too / It’s almost too good to be true” were the lyrics to an original song my sister wrote. My mom would give us metal pots and pans with accompanying wooden spoons and we would make music—loud music, but music nonetheless. She used her (now) 28 years worth of preschool education background to show us that music was fun! I asked her about children’s music, both when I was growing up and now, and of course smooth folk and acoustic singer-songwriter Raffi was one of the top artists she would play for us. Baby Mozart was a “no” but setting up a disco ball and playing Kid’s Dance Classics (2001) was a go-to “boredom buster” for Mom. During school hours, she would play music to “set the tone” for the kids: Raffi and classic music for “quiet time” and music like Choo Choo Soul for circle time. She told me that by combining music with dance, instruments and reading, children are able to learn so much more. She even has a whole repertoire of self-created songs to draw from: she spontaneously started singing two different songs about the color red on our 10 minute phone call about the topics of children’s music.
Yet, as we got older, these nursery rhymes changed to more mature tastes, almost overnight. The soundtracks from Hannah Montana (2006-2011) and Victorious (2010-2013), Camp Rock and albums from child-actors Selena Gomez and Demi Lovato filled the cultural lexicon. We knew all the words to the Phineas and Ferb (2007-2015) theme song (sung by the iconic pop punk band Bowling for Soup). “Party in The U.S.A.” by Miley Cyrus would play at middle school semi-formals. Taylor Swift albums like Fearless (2008) and Speak Now (2010) were collectable items I asked Santa for. And the High School Musical trilogy was watched and rewatched, rented and eventually bought on DVD so that we could have our favorite musical movie all to ourselves.
Technology changed everything, too—gone were the days of cassette players being built into cars as the rise of the CD and iPod increased accessibility. One of my friends said, “‘About Fun’ by Psapp would always come on first [in the car] because it was the first in [the] Apple library” of their mom’s iPod. “I Got You (I Feel Good)” by James Brown and “Surfin’ U.S.A.” by the Beach Boys, as well as classic rock like the Rolling Stones, were some hits from my friends’ childhoods. I would beg my parents for an iPod touch, only to be granted the less-than-mediocre and embarrassing iPod shuffle. I uploaded songs via iTunes and blasted them through my headphones on long car rides. Aside from tangible technology, some friends expressed their love for the radio: “I listened to lots of Katy Perry in the car with my babysitter. Kiss 108 was the radio station we listened to most, which was basically top pop/rap hits.” Meanwhile, classical music was the background music for someone else. When my sister and I got older, battling for both the front seat and then the radio station was a daily occurrence. Certain stations weren’t allowed where songs about sex, drugs and violence would play even though the language was deemed “clean” by the city. As I grew older, I became more “cultured” because I knew the lyrics to Top 40 songs, fitting in with my peers and finding my own niche.
Then came Pandora; iHeartRadio; YouTube; Spotify; SoundCloud. I stole my sister’s music taste, identifying with indie pop and rock, claiming it as my own. I was too old for “Children’s Music” but not old enough for “hardcore” stuff (I didn’t start swearing until high school). It seemed like the KidzBop boom happened overnight and the same could be said with the classic Wii game “Just Dance.” Online kids were fascinated by the “Duck Song” which I just discovered for the first time two years ago, and YouTubers like Troye Sivan and Miranda Sings garnered the attention of young Gen Z internet subscribers. Young people were on Tumblr, Instagram and Snapchat. It was the mid-2010s and I was no longer a kid. Everything felt new and my pink Nintendo 3-DS and Kindle Fire (I was late to the smartphone game) were sparkly objects I fawned over. Technology and access to media sped up and continues to, to the point where I still feel like I can’t catch up.
Karaoke machines, car sing-alongs and physical media were paramount to growing up in the 2000s and 2010s. Now kids are doing TikTok dances, getting smartphones at age 10, and have their entire lives documented online. Where has childhood gone?
With increased accessibility to the internet, kids became accustomed to everything at their fingertips. For me that was the (now ancient) online software KidPix and games like Webkinz and Poptropica. But for a lot of my peers, access to the internet at an early age came with both unrestricted fun and fear, unintentionally exposing themselves to vulgar images and music. Part of me is concerned for Generation Alpha being the first generation to exist wholly in the 21st century. At restaurants, in church and outside in the park, I see children asking—begging—for their parents’ smartphones. Cartoon voices emit annoying songs and dialogue, and I get concerned that children’s music is rooted too much in entertainment and not enough in education. Songs like “Baby Shark” and characters like Cocomelon dominate the internet, giving adults the opportunity to watch baby stim videos without a baby in sight. We laugh and ridicule these songs but consume them nonetheless.
Kids’ music is changing. In 2019, the classic “ABCs” changed tune. A new version emphasizing and differentiating the letters “L,” “M,” “N,” “O,” and “P” was tweeted by writer Noah Garfinkel, modifying the song for non-English speakers. Reactions were dramatic. One person said, “this is disgusting and appalling and something must be done about it,” while another said that the change could be “a huge help for kids with different accents/speech impediments/etc.” This modification could have a fundamental impact on the way kids learn about language and ultimately about themselves. This change is warranted—anything that will help children learn better is an improvement. Yet another change in children's music is not as beneficial…
Contemporary children’s music seems to be reliant on technology to reach its audience, rather than the traditional call-and-response, real-life storytelling previous generations relied on. This shift has caused kids’ attention spans to wane and most of the new children’s music being put out is not helping. Of course, children have low attention spans naturally, but this gap is growing because of high screen time. Parent blogs, internet safety websites and news outlets suggest a myriad of ways to help children treat technology differently, encouraging parents to set reasonable screen time limits, be mindful of what their child is watching and encourage less screen time activities. Rather than having a child watch a children’s music video, parents should sing to their kids or play some form of physical media. All of my friends that I talked to said that their parents, at some point or another, played them physical media or even played acoustic guitar for them. It seems like children can’t be children anymore; they are almost mini-adults and pushed further into a cycle of consumption unbeknownst to them or their parents.
Reflecting on her years as a preschool teacher, my mom said that interacting with young kids now is far different than when I was growing up. There are significantly less music performers dedicated to children’s music than before and the children’s music now doesn’t feel like “quality” music—it feels like filler music. She explained to me a recent experience she had where she handed young students scarves to dance with, but rather than dancing with the scarves or even singing along, she said the kids were “Watching me like I’m the TV show—like I’m the entertainment.” My mom points out that when we were kids, the TV went on in the morning before school and later when she would make dinner. But, there was a clear boundary as to when TV. time was over as she shut the doors on our ‘80s style TV cabinet. There probably isn’t a perfect answer on how much screen time is too much screen time, but it seems now that parents rely on technology to fill the space where there should be human connection. Disney remains a powerhouse for children’s media where movie soundtracks from like Frozen (2013) and Frozen II (2019), Soul (2020) and Encanto (2021) remain staples in kids memories. Maybe it was Covid-19 or maybe it’s the advancement of the 21st century, but something has shifted. There seems to be an utter lack of awareness for how formidable music is to a child’s development. Even if music is being played, it needs to be for education and entertainment, not just the latter.
The TV series Portlandia helps parents conceptualize a world where music matters and is not rooted in consumerism albeit in a comedic way. The sketch “Shooting Star Preschool” is dedicated to mocking children’s music and the people that make it. At a PTO meeting, Brendan (Fred Armisen) points out that “There is music here in this library available to our kids,” referencing bands like The Clash and Mike and The Mechanics. What ensues is a heated rapport with the other parents about what kids should be listening to. Michelle (Carrie Brownstein) says, “We’re not talking about our taste in music. We’re talking about what our kids love.” She continues, “Our kids are sponges. What they listen to will affect them for the rest of their lives,” saying that kids can and should listen to more mature music, not the “teeny bopper” fluff that the other parents want. Kids want exciting and engaging music, tunes that will make them learn and dance rather than sit in front of a digital screen. That could include the Clash, but more than likely not. The sister sketch, “Kids Music” is similarly absurd, poking fun at the children’s music that exists. Michelle says that music like the Wiggles and Raffi diminishes children’s intelligence, because “Who’s to say that a kid can’t appreciate a guitar solo in a Dinosaur Jr. song.” Fed up with the current children’s music selections, Brendan and Michelle team up with their friends to form a psychedelic rock band, Defiance of Anthropomorphic Sea Mammals. To no one’s surprise, they are unsuccessful, so much so that they make babies cry. Yet, the sketch makes fun of the new generations of children’s musicians, the ones who make music solely for entertainment, neglecting all educational value. They suggest that what kids listen to in early adolescence will impact them later on, which is pretty spot on.
Parents are their child’s first teacher, because they know their child better than anyone else. But it is undeniable that music is an important part of kids’ upbringing, from helping ensure a child-parent bond to helping children develop. According to Kindermusik, a leading and longtime organization dedicated to children’s involvement with music, music has many scientifically-proven benefits. Moving and singing with babies helps develop the vestibular system— the part of the brain responsible for gravity, balance and spatial awareness. Bouncing allows babies to hold their head up and repeat motions, especially when hand signs are used and directions are given. Playing instruments also helps babies develop fine motor skills, creating music in the process. Like was emphasized by the changing of the “Alphabet Song,” babies learn language through music, so even basic songs and nursery rhymes can help this process. From a psychological perspective, it has been shown that soothing music can help children relax. And when engaging children in group music sessions, social and emotional development occurs. There is a great band called Twinkle Twinkle Little Rock Star that makes instrumental, soothing baby music to the tunes of all time favorite albums. Recent releases include “babified” Lana Del Ray, Olivia Rodrigo, and Barbra Streisand. More local to Boston there is singer-songwriter Lindsay Munroe and the Music Mermaid who writes children’s books and performs the accompanying music. To say that these artists rock is an understatement. They go to show that there is a whole market dedicated to children’s music and it is a legitimate art form that did not just appear one day on the internet. There are real people making engaging music for kids and who are dedicated to helping them learn.
The artists I described above unfortunately seem like rare exceptions, though, and so I long for the days where all children’s music meant something; where education and entertainment were balanced. I worry that music akin to “Baby Shark” is a form of baby brain rot, and Generation Alpha won’t know the joys of folk music or creative expression. Maybe I need to counteract this fear by making my own children’s band like in Portlandia, or maybe I need to accept that children’s music will inevitably change as it has in all the decades before me. Similar to how I feel about children’s music now, I know for certain my parents did not approve of the music in circulation during my youth. The age-old question of “How do I raise my child?” is still in circulation, yet to be answered even after billions of children have been raised. There is no right answer and I certainly don’t have it. But, like you, I was a kid once, and with that experience as well as my research in mind, I think the best that parents can do is commit themselves to be present with their children, care deeply and show their children that music can be awesome.